


Overwatch: Junkrat and Roadhog

by paranoidfighter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Junkers - Freeform, Junkhog, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, overwatch fanfiction, roadrat - Freeform, things i wrote for friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10770819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoidfighter/pseuds/paranoidfighter
Summary: A collection of short stories that may or may not eventually form a cohesive story.This collection includes both SFW and NSFW stories; if you are underage or do not want to see NSFW content, please avoid the chapters labeled NSFW.





	1. SFW: Roadhog goes grocery shopping | Junkrat takes a shower

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of a story I wrote for a friend for a Christmas present. They wanted RoadRat doing cute things, so I did my best to provide.

Fuck, he was ugly.

His lopsided smile was filled to the brim with broken, chipped teeth. His eyes were beady, peering out from eyebrows bushier than a dropbear’s ears. The disheveled, crazed appearance was only further reinforced by the fact that most of his hair was either missing or actively on fire.

Roadhog couldn’t help but wonder what Junkrat had done to piss off the sketch artist, because he had clearly done something to incur their wrath. Junkrat might not be the most aesthetically pleasing man in the Outback - or the world - but he wasn’t as hideous as the sketch made him out to be. He peered a little closer and found himself smiling - with every passing second, the police sketch was becoming more and more of a caricature. Junkrat’s ears were overly large, his nose looked more akin to an ostrich’s beak and his Adam’s apple was so awkwardly massive that it looked more like a rock that had gotten stuck within his throat. The man smiled behind the mask that he wore, the flimsy blue paper serving to hide his protruding bottom teeth; Junkrat called them his tusks.

He turned his dark gaze over to the neighbouring sketch and gave a short, barking laugh at the artist’s rendition of himself. Whereas Junkrat’s sketch was a unsightly parody of his appearance, Roadhog couldn’t help but wonder if the artist had ever actually seen a picture of himself before. For one thing, his war mask didn’t have ears. For another, he wasn’t that tall; the poster said he stood at eight feet, ten inches. Sure, he was tall, but that was a whoppin’ fourteen inches taller than what he truly was. He read the weight on the poster and found himself laughing more - half a ton! Half a fuckin’ ton! He wasn’t tiny, not by any stretch of the imagination, but this was just ridiculous…

Roadhog rolled his eyes as he shifted the grocery bags to one hand, his now-free hand patting his many pockets for a pen. When he found one, he leaned down and scribbled a crude mustache onto his own picture before taking his pen to Junkrat’s horribly misrepresented face. A pair of horns were added to his partially bald scalp before he scribbled on a mustache and a monocle onto Junkrat’s visage. Satisfied, Roadhog slid the pen back into his pocket and walked away, chuckling quietly to himself.

The men and women who had been staring at the tall man drawing on the posters did not comment - after all, they were damn certain they knew who that was, but no one was stupid enough to go after the nine foot tall, half-ton sociopath…

Roadhog walked across the parking lot and back to the old truck he had been working on repairing. The truck wasn’t pretty, no, but it was functional. It was able to carry himself, Junkrat and most of Junkrat’s explosions without complaining or sagging - a feat that most modern vehicles couldn’t accomplish. He loaded the groceries into the back and secured the bags by their handles with a multitude of bungee cords, humming lightly to himself as he worked. It was strangely peaceful, he thought to himself, to go grocery shopping without Junkrat in tow. The hyperactive man-child wasn’t there to run up and down the aisles or to try and sneak boxes upon boxes of sugary cakes into the trolley. A task that normally took him well over an hour took less than half the time and had been headache-free; there were no demands at the cash register for candy bars, nor were there any hassles caused when Junkrat tried to ride the trolley across the parking lot.

 

The truck bounced on its wheels before settling as Roadhog made himself comfortable behind the steering wheel.

 

As peaceful as it was to go shopping alone, he did find himself missing the not-so-little bundle of chaos. After all, where was the fun in walking calmly through the aisles and not having to recheck the trolley every thirty seconds to see which snack cakes had somehow mysteriously fallen into the basket? Roadhog glanced in the rearview mirror before backing out of the parking space and making his way towards the main road. It was a long drive back to their hideout; he yet again found himself wishing that the radio worked.

 

The ancient truck gave a final roar before Roadhog killed the engine; two massive fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he saw a plume of smoke rising from behind the safe house. He extracted himself from the vehicle and retrieved his groceries before making his way towards the smoke, wondering what his employer had set on fire this time around - he hoped it wasn’t Junkrat himself. The young man only had two limbs left to lose…

 

Roadhog stared at the sight of Junkrat hunched over a work bench, frowning behind his mask as he heard the international indicator that something was about to go very, very wrong.

“Shit.”

 

The scent of sulphur met his nose as he charged forward, the groceries swinging wildly from his hand. He watched as Junkrat was sent airborne when his workbench went up in a massive fireball. The skinny madman felt himself smacking against a solid wall of fat and muscle, laughing as a large arm wrapped around him to hold him steady.  
“Good catch, mate!” Junkrat cheered as he turned his gaze up to his bodyguard.  
Roadhog stared at the younger man and sighed quietly as he placed Junkrat down on the ground. He lowered his paper mask and licked his thumb and index finger before pinching out a flaming tuft of hair. Without saying a word, Roadhog turned and walked inside to put the groceries away.

 

The behemoth of a bodyguard loaded up their fridge with fresh milk, eggs and meat - all of the staples of a healthy diet, he thought proudly. There were also some vegetables thrown into the mix – Junkrat did seem to have a penchant for potatoes and baby carrots – but they only took up a small amount of space within the fridge. His young boss might complain about the lack of pre-packaged sweets, Roadhog thought to himself, but Junkrat’s complaints were usually silenced when a grilled T-bone steak was placed down before him. Speaking of which– 

“Oy, mate, didja–”

Roadhog turned and faced the man, a box of sugary cereal and a box of chocolate cakes held in his massive grip.

“Yes!” Junkrat punched the air in glee before catching the two boxes. He wasted no time in opening the box of cakes and grabbing one as he scuttled out of the kitchen with his treasures. Roadhog smiled fondly as he watched him go, almost envying the joy that the young man felt at such simple pleasures. Junkrat didn’t care that his workbench had just detonated - he had chocolate!

Roadhog put the rest of the groceries away before making his way into the humble living room, his fond smile growing as he watched Junkrat sitting on the ground in front of the television and munching on cereal, his bright eyes  
fixed on the screen. He walked over to his armchair and sank into the cushioned depths, chuckling as Junkrat abandoned his spot on the floor to sit on the armrest - in truth, Junkrat was sitting more on his lap than the chair. He said nothing as he put his arm around the young man, smiling as Junkrat curled against him.

It did not take very long before the young man felt himself growing drowsy, his eyelids drooping as he listened to the rhythmic rumbling of Roadhog’s breathing. The older man glanced down at his tired employer and picked up the remote, taking the chance to turn it back to his favourite channel. Junkrat didn’t comment as he watched the talking animals on the screen; he knew that Roadhog liked children’s movies, especially ones that only featured animals.

 

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved them, too.

 

The two sat in silence as they watched the movie, watching as the puppy and the kitten navigated their way through the rural landscapes to find their way back home - and to one another. The half-asleep young man didn’t comment as he felt Roadhog’s heartbeat speeding up as the kitten andpuppy ran towards each other, the young animals playfully fighting as they were reunited at long last. Junkrat hid his smile as he nestled against Roadhog’s large stomach, secretly sharing in the joy that his bodyguard felt at seeing the happy animals. It was always nice to see him smile, Junkrat thought quietly.

When the film ended, Roadhog gently roused the half-asleep man. “Steak?”  
“Oh, yeah; steak. Didja get–”  
“T-bones - bone in.”  
“Good onya!” Junkrat said as he bounced back to his feet. “Didja also–”  
“Yes. They’re in the fridge - but only one.”  
“Aw, c'mon! Two!”  
“One.” Roadhog said firmly as he followed Junkrat into the kitchen, watching as the young man grabbed a sugary soda - he always thought of them as ‘canned diabetes.’ “Y'already had cake an’ cereal. Y'r gonna rot your teeth.”  
“What teeth? I ain’t got a lot left!”  
“I know. Let’s save the ones y'have.” He said sternly but his eyes showed his mirth. Roadhog tousled the man’s charred hair before he pulled the steaks out of the fridge. Junkrat hopped up onto the counter and slurped the soda as he watched Roadhog prepping the sliced cow, idly swinging his legs. He always enjoyed watching just how nimble Roadhog could be; the large man was quickly mincing garlic and mixing it with some olive oil. He set the oil aside before he lightly coated the steaks with coarse salt and fresh pepper.

“Are ya makin’ 'tatoes?”  
“Do y'want potatoes?” Roadhog didn’t look up from the cutting board.  
“Yeah. Mashed.”  
“Go and get ‘em, then. Wash ‘em and put ‘em in a pot to boil.”  
“'kay!” He slid off of the counter and tossed his empty soda can into the recycling bin - Roadhog insisted on recycling - before making his way over to the pantry. “How many?”  
“Grab five large ones.”  
“How 'bout ten small ones?”  
“Just get some potatoes…”

 

Junkrat came back with a small armful of potatoes and dropped them into the sink. He picked up a scrub brush and began to clean them, humming to himself as he washed away the dirt. Roadhog placed a heavy pot down beside the young man before stepping outside to start up the charcoal grill. He was thankful that he didn’t need lighter fluid to start the coals; whenever they had lighter fluid, Junkrat always insisted on adding more to the grill, saying that it was taking too long to heat or that the fire was too small.

 

Roadhog was happy that his own eyebrows had grown back after the last debacle.

 

The hulking bodyguard sat down after preparing his grill, idly longing for a durrie. It had been many moons since he had smoked, but his hand still itched for the paper-enshrouded tobacco whenever he found himself waiting. One of the very first orders Junkrat had given Roadhog upon hiring him was for the man to stop smoking. At first, he couldn’t understand why the half-mad man wanted him to stop - it wasn’t as if Junkrat was asthmatic or had allergies to smoke - but he soon realized that Junkrat primarily didn’t want to leave any possible trace of who they were after they carried out a heist. Roadhog remembered being thoroughly impressed when he heard that; he hadn’t expected Junkrat to actually think that far ahead with his crime schemes - or to actually think.

 

Oh, how mistaken he had been, Roadhog thought with a silent chuckle.

 

Junkrat, despite his crazed smile, was far, far smarter than what people gave him credit for. His creative process and resulting explosives might appear to be a combination of insanity and dumb luck, but Roadhog knew that his boss had a nigh-perfect grasp on what he was doing. He had to have that level of understanding now, he thought to himself as he heard the dull /thunk/ of Junkrat’s metal leg on the linoleum floor.

 

He turned his head as Junkrat stood beside him, the young man holding out a large can of beer for his bodyguard. “Y’ve not coughed in weeks,” Junkrat said as he sat down on Roadhog’s large thigh, “good onya.”

Roadhog blinked in confusion as he took a deep inhale, his eyes widening as he realized that he was able to fully expand his lungs without coughing. He hadn’t been able to do that in years! The tall man gave a half smile down to his young employer and let his arm go around the man’s skinny waist, letting Junkrat relax against his broad belly.  
“Y'smell better, too, not reeking of durries,” Junkrat commented as he watched the burning coals, “can I make the fire bigger?”  
“No. And y’re not one to talk about smells,” he huffed as the ever-present stench of sulphur met his nose.  
“Powder’s better than durries,” the young man countered.  
“Nope.” Roadhog smiled slightly as Junkrat began to squirm against him. “Durries smell better.”  
“Y'sure I can’t make the fire bigger? It’s small. It’ll take forever t'cook–”  
“The fire is the right size,” he insisted quietly, “are the potatoes boiling?”  
“Yep.”  
“Good.” Roadhog smiled as Junkrat made himself comfortable, the two watching as the charcoal slowly faded to grey…

As the steaks came to rest on the counter under a tinfoil tent, Junkrat set about mashing the potatoes for their dinner. With the masher held tightly in his metal hand, he gleefully smashed the tubers into a fine paste, liberally adding in butter, salt, milk and the various herbs and spices that Roadhog handed him. He always enjoyed making mashed potatoes - after all, it was a time when his exuberance was not only tolerated but was actively praised! Roadhog always said he made the smoothest mashed potatoes that he had ever had. Junkrat’s joyful laughter made Roadhog grin as he sipped his beer, watching the young man helping with their dinner.

 

…he’d clean the potatoes off the ceiling later…

 

Dinner passed quietly. The pair were not ones to talk while they ate, more content to focus on the food before them; the only bits of conversation came from Roadhog reminding Junkrat to keep his elbows off of the table and to hold his utensils properly. Junkrat would sigh as he sat up straight and turned the fork over, the tines curving down towards the plate as he made small, neat slices with his knife. He never was sure why Roadhog was so insistent on table manners, but he humoured the larger man. He stole a glance up to Roadhog, smirking as he saw the larger man look away.  
“Whattaya starin’ at, ya drongo?”  
Roadhog said nothing as he turned his gaze back to his plate.  
“What? Now y'r quiet? Y’ve been talkin’ all day! C'mon, what were y'starin’ at?”  
The older man sighed but said nothing.  
“C'mon!” He whined, “Jus’ tell me already! Don’t make me pry it outta ya!”  
“I’d like to see y'try.” Roadhog chuckled.  
“Is that a challenge?!”  
“Eat y'r dinner.”  
“Only if y'tell me why y'r starin’!”

 

Roadhog rolled his eyes before meeting the younger man’s gaze. “Saw a wanted poster for us today.”  
“Oh?” Junkrat took another bite of steak.  
“Yup. Never knew y'r ears were the size of dinner plates.”  
“Huh?”  
“And apparently I’m nine feet tall and weigh half a ton!” Roadhog laughed.  
“Half a ton?! Naw mate! Y'only weigh that when y'don’t wanna get outta bed! Can hardly move ya then!” Junkrat was laughing as his smile came to meet his eyes. “So what’d y'do to the posters? Take 'em down?”  
Roadhog shook his head. “I drew on 'em. Gave m'self a mustache on my mask. Y'got one, too, and a pair of horns and a monocle.”  
“Yes! I should get me one, y'think? Fancy monocle? Wear it about with a top hat, yeah? Be a right proper fucker then!” Junkrat couldn’t stop laughing as he held a hand up to his face, curving his finger and thumb to make a circle. He put it to his eye and sat up straight, his grin nearly splitting his face in twain. “'Allo there, guv'nah. Don’t mind me, just gon’ nip off with ya jewels! Pip pip cheerio!” His metal hand smacked the table as he and Roadhog howled with laughter…

 

The dishes were washed, dried and put away as the sunset faded into the night. Roadhog finished cleaning the kitchen as he heard his young employer quietly cursing his metal fingers. Junkrat’s prosthetic grip fumbled over the strings of acoustic guitar as he tried to strum the instrument. He dried his hands before stepping into the small living room and stared down at Junkrat, watching as the young man leaned over the guitar to stare at the book in front of him; he tried to match the positions shown in the book with his flesh-and-bone hand as he held a pick in his metallic grip, idly griping about how he could wire up finely-tuned explosives but couldn’t seem to manage to hold a bloody guitar. Roadhog gave the young man’s shoulder a squeeze before he stepped past him, smiling to himself as he picked up a plush pachimari off the shelf. The soft toy gave a small squeak as it was held within the man’s massive grip, the toy’s large smile mirroring Roadhog’s own. He made his way back to his arm chair and sat down, placing the plush nearby as he picked up a book. He held the book in his right hand as he let his left rest on the toy, occasionally squeezing it and listening to the squeak.

 

Junkrat looked over to his bodyguard and the plush and frowned slightly. He clambered to his feet and picked up his own book before marching over to Roadhog. He sat down near the plush and put it to the side before taking Roadhog’s large hand and putting it on his own head. With a grin, he picked up his guitar and resumed trying to learn how to play.

 

Roadhog stared down at the young man, raising an eyebrow. “Y'don’t squeak.”  
“Squeak.”  
“Y'okay, Junkrat? Y'r bein’ clingy.”  
“Y'left me earlier.” Junkrat’s voice was a little hurt.  
“I jus’ went t'the store.”  
“Y'didn’t take me.”  
He gently stroked Junkrat’s tufted hair as he held in a sigh. “I’ll take y'next time, alright?”  
“Y'better, ya drongo.” The young man huffed. “Y'know I don’t like it when ya leave!”  
“Sorry;” Roadhog said softly, “I won’t do it again.”  
“Good.” Junkrat looked up to his bodyguard and gave a half-smile. “Wanna help me learn how t'play this thing?”  
“Sure.” He smiled as the younger man climbed onto his lap. Roadhog held the book for Junkrat as his employer gave the strings an experimental strum…


	2. NSFW: Part 2 of Roadhog goes grocery shopping | Junkrat takes a shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the NSFW portion of the present I wrote for a friend. Again, NSFW - if you are underage or do not want to see this content, please do not read this chapter.

Junkrat sighed as he sat on the edge of the tub and carefully removed his prosthetics and the protective gauze he wore over the severed ends of his limbs. He placed the metal limbs on the closed lid of the toilet before turning on the shower with his remaining hand. He waited for the water to warm before sliding into the tub and sitting under the stream of hot water. He hated Roadhog’s rule of mandatory showers before bed on the days that he got caught in explosions. He did have to admit, though, that he had become more careful ever since that rule was implemented.

He scrubbed at his face as the water washed over him, pretending not to notice the colour that the water had become as the grime of his daily life was washed away. It /had/ been a little while since he had last taken a shower, he thought as he rubbed the now-smooth skin of his cheek. He picked up the bottle of shampoo that his bodyguard used and flipped open the lid, sniffing the strawberry scented soap. He’d never admit it, but the scent of strawberries had almost become an aphrodisiac to him. Strawberries meant that Roadhog was close to him, close enough for him to catch a whiff of the sweet fruit from his grey hair. He was only that close to Roadhog when they were safe…

Junkrat propped the bottle on its side and carefully squeezed some shampoo into his open palm before righting the bottle. He began to scrub at his hair, lathering up the large tufts that remained. He let himself get lost in the hot water and the scent of strawberries as he leaned against the wall of the tub, his eyes closing as the soap washed away.

It was only a few minutes later when he realized he had been lazily stroking himself.

He stared down at his shaft, smiling his broken smile as he gave the firm skin a gentle tug. His heart began to flutter in his chest as he glanced over to the small cabinet under the sink. Since he was already in the shower, he might as well get completely clean, he thought with a grin as he carefully crawled out of the tub…

 

Junkrat was lying under the blankets by the time Roadhog came into the bedroom. The behemoth of a man was dressed only in a pair of equally large boxers. His black-nailed hand scratched at his tattooed stomach as he yawned, his eyes half-lidded as he sat down on the truly massive bed.  
“Oy, mate, already tired?”  
Roadhog shrugged as he turned to lie down, yawning again as his head came to rest on the pillow.  
“Aw, ser'sly?”  
“Go t'sleep.” Roadhog closed his eyes as he drew the parachute-sized blanket up to his chest.

 

“Mako…”

 

Roadhog’s eyes shot open as he stared down at the young man, his breathing deep as he felt a warm hand stroking its way down his rotund stomach. Junkrat never used his real name, not unless–

A low moan escaped his lips as he felt a hand gripping his shaft through the fabric of his boxers. The warm fingers slipped through the folded cloth to brush against the soft skin; the friction between their skin drew a gasp from the larger man.  
“Mako,” Junkrat purred again, “y'can’t already be tired, mate. Night’s young.”  
Roadhog – Mako - turned to stare at his employer, breathing deeply as he reached out to touch Junkrat’s now-clean cheek. A large thumb brushed over the skin before his broad hand came to rest on the back of his head. He pulled the smaller man closer to him, not caring that Junkrat was no longer stroking his erection. Mako kissed him full on the lips as he settled Junkrat’s body on top of his own; the slight weight of the skinny man was barely noticed, but the sensation of Junkrat’s own shaft pressing into his stomach had almost all of his attention - the only other distraction was Junkrat’s tongue as it danced with his own.

 

When Junkrat pulled away, Mako swallowed hard as he trailed a finger up and down the man’s bare back. His broad finger teased lower, slipping into the cleft of his cheeks, smiling as he heard his employer let out a shuddering gasp when the tip of his finger pressed against the puckered skin.  
“Jamison,” his voice was a low rumble as he continued to lightly press against the skin, touching for only a moment before pulling his finger away, only to press again. The teasing sensation and the sound of his own name made Jamison moan as his hips unconsciously jutted forward. The younger man began to rut himself against the man’s broad belly; a thin line of fluid dribbled from his shaft, slicking their skin. Jamison’s eyes closed as he felt the tip of the large finger gaining purchase into his body as the tight ring of muscle relaxed.

Mako pulled his hand away and smiled at the whine of displeasure. “Y'otta stop, Jamison,” his voice rumbled, “or y'r gonna blow ‘fore we even get started. Y'made a mess already.” He could feel the sticky warmth on his stomach and not-so-shyly reveled in it.  
“Can’t help it!” Jamison whined as his hips slid forward once again. “Stop teasin’ me and just fuck me already!”  
“So impatient,” Mako’s laughter turned into a groan as the younger man’s hand wrapped around his own straining erection.  
“I’m impatient? Mate, y'could drill a hole through a steel door!” Jamison’s hand traced through Mako’s own slick warmth, spreading the fluid over his firm flesh. 

The older man reached for the side table and pulled open the drawer, his hand blindly fishing for a bottle of lubricant and a foil packet. Upon finding the highly sought treasures, Mako placed them down on the bed near his young employer and lover.  
“Naw, mate, no rubber.”  
Mako raised an eyebrow at that. “Did y–”  
“Clean as a whistle, Mako.” Jamison winked as he rolled onto his back, smiling up to the large man. “G'on; wanna feel ya.”

 

Well, how could he resist that?

 

Mako climbed off of the bed and knelt beside it as Junkrat slid himself towards the edge, his hips coming to hang off the edge of the mattress. His legs came to rest against Roadhog’s chest as the older man drizzled oil onto his fingers. Jamison gave a low moan of pleasure as he felt the tip of a finger pressing against his orifice, gasping as he felt the digit slip into his warm depths.  
“m-Mako,” he groaned as he felt the finger moving within him, sliding slowly back and forth. Junkrat gave a high cry as Roadhog’s finger pressed up against his prostate, the firm skin massaging the organ.  
“Found y'r button,” Mako grinned as he watched Jamison’s hand clasp his own cock, watched as the younger man stroked himself with frenzied passion.  
“g-Gawd, Mako, y'fuckin’ tease!” His voice shook as he felt Mako pull his finger away, only for the digit to be rejoined by a second. He gasped at the stretching he was receiving, only to scream as those two devilishly thick fingers pressed up against his prostate. The digits were barely moving, each finger lightly pressing against the smooth bump before pulling away and letting the other finger apply its own pressure.   
“Mako!”  
“Y'like that?” He whispered knowingly; there was no way that Junkrat could deny it. The younger man was still frantically tugging on his own cock as he moaned; his body tightened around the warm skin, greedily trying to pull the fingers even deeper.  
“Stop fuckin’ me with y'r fingers and stick it in already!” His voice was shaking as much as his body was.  
“So impatient,” he said again as he pulled his hand away. Mako climbed onto the bed and laid on his back, watching as Jamison hurriedly grabbed the bottle of lubricant with his metal hand. The young man poured the oil over his bodyguard’s massive shaft, his warm hand making short work of covering the massive erection in fluid.

“Y'warmed up enough?” Mako asked as Jamison held him steady, watching as the younger man pressed himself down against his tip.  
“Yeah,” he whispered as he felt his orifice slowly stretching. His eyes closed as he lowered himself more, struggling to mount himself on the crown of the large cock. Even though he had done this countless times before, the same questions sprang to mind. Why was he doing this? Why? Oh god, why was he so big? Why was he doing this?! What if he got hurt? What if–

 

Junkrat all but screamed in ecstasy as he felt himself sliding down the shaft, the hot flesh slipping deeper and deeper into his own body.

 

He slid down to Roadhog’s base, staring at the sight of his own stomach bulging slightly from the sheer girth that was now safely buried within him. Jamison put his hand against his stomach and trailed his fingers down, drawing a moan from both himself and his bodyguard. The young man stared up to his lover, smiling to him over the swell of Mako’s stomach.  
“g-Gawddamn, Mako,” Jamison’s voice shook as much as his body, “didja f-ooh-uckin’ grow aga-in?” He could barely speak as Mako’s hips moved slightly. Speared on the man’s erection, Jamison was completely at Mako’s mercy; with every single twitch from the larger man, Jamison found himself quivering as his entire body sang out in pleasure at the sensation of being so utterly and absolutely full.  
“Y'gonna move?” Mako teased him with another small movement of his hips.  
“t-Tryin’ t’,” Jamison gasped as he placed his hands on Mako’s stomach. He pressed down on the man’s skin as he struggled to move; his legs were quaking underneath him, too weak to help him rise up. He tried for a few more moments before he simply surrendered to the sensory overload. Like a living cock sleeve, Junkrat could do nothing as he was impaled on the man’s shaft. “I can’t move,” he whined as angry tears pricked the corners of his eyes, “I ca-an’t…”

Mako helped the younger man up and off of his shaft, gently pulling him up into a hug. The large man gave Jamison a gentle kiss on the lips as he held him, whispering softly into his ear. “We don’t have–”  
“Dammit, Mako,” his voice suddenly had an edge to it, “I want y’t'fuck me! So, fuck me!”  
“But–”  
“Y'didn’t hurt me, mate. Now, breed me like a bitch,” he growled as he reached down to stroke the man’s erection, refusing to let it flag, “make me moan!”

 

Mako couldn’t deny that, right now, he wanted to do nothing else.

 

Jamison came to lay on the edge of the bed again, his hips propped up on the pillows. Mako stood before him, a veritable mountain of flesh and muscle. His breathing was deep as he stared down at the younger man’s eager body, shuddering in wanton desire as he saw the gaping orifice. Not many could handle him, he knew; it had taken the two men weeks upon weeks of patience and stretching before Junkrat could comfortably take his entire shaft. There were times when Jamison could ride him like a cowboy rode a bucking stallion, but other times…

Mako pressed himself against the man’s body and grunted as he felt himself slipping into the warm depths again, all but growling in pleasure as Jamison pressed his hand down onto the bump within his flat stomach. The sensation drove them both mad - Mako, for feeling the extra pressure squeezing his turgid length; Jamison, for being stuffed to the absolute brim.  
“Y'gonna move?” Junkrat grinned as his voice shook with pleasure, only for his back to arch as Mako began to do just that.

 

The bed was squeaking underneath them, the complaints of the springs going unheard as the lovers lost themselves to one another. Mako’s large hands held Jamison in place as his hips slapped against the other man’s, the two drowning in the sounds of sweaty flesh and Jamison’s gasping cries. The younger man felt his whole body quivering and shaking, barely able to move as he surrendered himself to Mako’s will. Almost boneless, it was all he could do to put his legs around Roadhog’s body as the older man leaned over him. He didn’t touch his own shaft, but the firm flesh wasn’t without its own attention. Squeezed between Mako’s girth and the new bulge within his own stomach, Jamison could only shudder and moan as his cock was massaged by his lover’s body.

Mako smiled down at Junkrat as he held the man’s legs in his large hands, grinning at the way that Junkrat couldn’t even contain his nigh-constant screams. He was used to the man relentlessly flapping his lips, but seeing Jamison’s mouth moving with gasps and moans of pleasure was a sight he didn’t think he’d tire of. His thrusts grew firmer as his balls slapped against Jamison’s backside, drawing a new squeak of delight from the younger man.  
“Y'like that?” Mako grinned knowingly as Jamison’s back arched again.  
Junkrat could barely reply, mindlessly babbling as his eyes closed. His cheeks were flushed, the redness spreading to the rest of his body. A sheen of sweat covered them as the rutted together, the salty fluid slicking the skin between their bodies. Junkrat felt a spiraling warmth growing within him, felt his balls drawing up closer, tighter, felt–

 

“MAKO!”

Roadhog slumped over his lover’s body as his thick shaft twitched, pumping out rope after rope of hot semen. Jamison watched as Mako slowly pulled out, watched as the bulge in his stomach receded. He lightly pressed on his stomach and moaned lewdly as he felt the sticky fluid trickling from his now-gaping hole. His cock still bobbed against his stomach, straining for release. Mako knelt down and parted his lips, all but swallowing Junkrat’s cock. Jamison’s hands gripped at the white hair as he began to hump against the man’s face, his wordless vocals rising in pitch. With an unseen smile, Roadhog pushed a finger back into the man’s semen-slicked orifice and drank deeply as Junkrat came within his mouth. He felt the younger man’s body squeezing his finger with every heartbeat, his eyes closing as Junkrat’s shaft rapidly deflated. He carefully pulled his finger out of the man and smiled down at him as Junkrat’s cock slipped from his mouth. 

Standing slowly, he stared down at Jamison, his cheeks flushing as he stared at the sight of his spent and thoroughly seeded lover. He leaned down again to give his employer a gentle kiss before he removed the metal limbs.  
“Y'need a bath,” Mako teased as he lifted Jamison into his arms, smiling as he felt his lover slump against him.  
Junkrat said nothing as he was taken back into the bathroom, content to rest in Roadhog’s arms as the older man waited for the water to warm. His eyes were closed as he breathed in the scent of Roadhog’s musk and the strawberry shampoo, feeling himself falling more and more in love with the man that he had hired to protect him.

 

Jamison didn’t even open his eyes as Mako placed him down in the tub. He let the older man bathe him, breathlessly laughing as Mako teased him for being so quiet.  
“Y'fucked the life outta me, mate,” he gasped as his bodyguard washed between his legs, “can barely talk, let alone mo-oh, gawd…”  
Roadhog teased the man as he ran a soft cloth between his cheeks, cleaning away the viscous fluid. The tall man could only grin; he was beyond pleased with himself that he had managed to finally exhaust the endless bundle of chaotic energy…

 

The sheets were changed and the blankets replaced before Jamison was placed into bed. He curled up tightly next to Mako, his eyes closing as his lover’s arm covered his body. His head rest in the crook of Mako’s arm, his soft hand resting on the man’s broad chest. His metal limbs were on the floor next to the bed; normally he’d wear them while he slept but, for now, he didn’t have the energy to fuss with them.  
“Mako?”  
The older man glanced down to him but said nothing.  
“…love you.”  
“Love you too, Jamison.” Roadhog whispered with a small smile.  
Junkrat buried his face into Mako’s chest and closed his eyes as he drifted off to sleep…


	3. SFW: Roadhog does some thinking | Junkrat has some cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another gift for the same friend who got the previous two stories - said friend wanted to read "the cutest cute" so I did my best to deliver. This piece is entirely full of my own headcanons. I hope you enjoy it.

He had worked with the crazed little gremlin for three years now. Three long years of explosions, exploits and experiences the likes of which he never thought he’d have.

Roadhog glanced over at the aforementioned little gremlin, listening to Junkrat quietly snoring in the passenger seat. He smiled behind his mask as he drove through the dusty lands. Even though Junkrat was a bundle of endless chaotic energy, he would almost always fall asleep during long car rides. Well, he fell asleep on the car rides that weren’t high speed chases or escapes - he was wide awake for those, shrieking his fool head off as he threw bomb after grenade after spike trap at their foes. On the drives to and from buying supplies, however, he was almost always asleep. Roadhog refused to wake him; he’d tell himself that Junkrat needed the sleep – which he truly did – but he knew that he had a more selfish motive for letting Junkrat rest.

It was in these quiet times that Roadhog was able to sit and think.

Three long years had been spent in Junkrat’s company. Initially, he had worked for him, but that only lasted for a year or so. After that, he had begun to work with him, helping carry out the plans that only Junkrat could think of. It did not take long for the pair to become a formidable duo that had quickly garnered international infamy. Now, though–

Junkrat mumbled as he shifted in the worn seat.

–Roadhog had come to love him.

 

He glanced to the man next to him and rolled his eyes as Junkrat’s face pressed against the window. If someone had told him three years ago that he’d be sleeping with the deranged arsonist, he would’ve been more inclined to introduce his fist into their face than he would be to listen to them. Roadhog glanced to his side as Junkrat murmured, his gaze softening as the young man shifted in his sleep. It was funny how time had changed his mind, he thought as Junkrat’s head slumped against his arm and slid further down. He carefully moved his arm when Junkrat came to lie across the bench seat, his head resting on Roadhog’s thigh. With a heavy hand on Junkrat’s side, Roadhog smiled as he drove back to their safe house.

 

Three years, he had worked with Junkrat. The first few months were the tensest of them all, he recalled; the stiffness between them had been more troublesome than any of the heists they had carried out. It didn’t help that he had first found Junkrat lying mostly dead on the side of the road - Junkrat hadn’t exactly been in the mood for exchanging pleasantries at that point, nor did he seem keen on polite conversation after the unwanted removal of his arm and leg only days after they met.

He remembered picking up the heavily injured man and tossing him onto his motorcycle, saying nothing as he sped through the arid landscape. He had ignored most of the pained cries from his new passenger but had been unable to ignore the noxious scent of rotting flesh. It pierced through the filters on his mask and made him gag with every inhalation.

It took days for Roadhog to arrive back at the ramshackle hut he had built for himself. He had done what he could to keep the stranger alive during the trip, even if the stranger didn’t believe that he was helping. Roadhog had forced the young man to leave the maggots on his arm and leg alone, knowing that they were one of the few things that were preventing a worsening infection. After all, they ate away the dying flesh - well, they did, so long as Junkrat didn’t kill them.

By the time they had arrived at the hut, Junkrat was delirious from the pain. He didn’t complain as he found himself carried inside the hut and placed down on the bed, nor did he complain as he felt the tall man’s mask coming to rest over his face. Junkrat did protest, however, when he saw a large, wicked blade in the stranger’s hand.  
“w-What’re ya’ doin?!”  
“Saving you.” He grasped Junkrat’s arm. “Yer rottin’ and yer dyin’ from it.”  
Junkrat’s already rapid breathing grew even shallower. “Don’t–please! Don’t!”  
“Y'wanna die?” Roadhog growled as his grip tightened, “‘cause y'probably only got a few days left at this rate.”  
“If ya chop of me limbs, I’m still dead; I can’t run on a stump! I’ll get caught and–”  
“Y'said y’d hire me to protect you. Promised me half the loot. Can’t get loot from you if y’r dead.” Roadhog’s dour face grew darker. “And y'r gonna die at this rate.”  
“But–”  
“I’m yer bodyguard,” he grumped, “I’ll keep y'safe.”

 

Junkrat found himself growing faint as he sank deeper into the worn cot; he didn’t want to lose his arm and his leg. He needed those - for fuck’s sake, his arm and his leg had been with him for his entire life! He liked them! All but hyperventilating now, Junkrat stared down at his arm as a maggot wriggled its way across his rotting palm. He couldn’t move his fingers, nor could he move his knee or toes. Even if he kept the limbs, he was still crippled. If the man was actually right, he only had a few days left…

 

…and he knew the man’s words to be true.

 

Breathing had become difficult. His heart rate was erratic. His normally addled thoughts had become even more jumbled. He knew that there was more that had gone wrong ever since he had been caught in the explosion. He swallowed hard as he felt the mask’s soothing vapours working their way into his lungs. He knew he had a choice to make…

Junkrat opened his eyes four days later.

Roadhog had checked in on him frequently during those four long days, making sure his new employer had continued to breathe. He was growing concerned that the younger man would starve to death. He knew the sleeping man needed nutrients, but he also knew that there was no way that he could safely feed him without a naso-gastric tube. Were this a lifetime ago and he still at the hospital where he had been doing his clinicals, this wouldn’t be an issue, but he was out in the middle of the irradiated Outback with only a few basic supplies available to him. He found himself sighing in frustration more often than not as he paced around the tiny shack. If his new boss didn’t wake up soon, he thought to himself, he’d start digging a grave…

On the evening of the fourth day, Junkrat opened his eyes. Roadhog heaved a sigh of relief as he fetched a cup of broth and a straw. When he came back, the young man greedily slurped the warm liquid, his stomach growling as loudly as he did when Roadhog forced him to slow down.  
“I’m starvin’!”  
“If y'drink too fast, y’ll get sick.” Roadhog said sternly, “now just take sips.”  
“But–”  
“Sips.”  
Junkrat sighed and begrudgingly agreed, sipping the warm broth until the cup was empty. He sat back and rubbed his sunken stomach with his remaining hand, sighing as he looked at the stumps of his right arm and leg.  
“I’ll make y’somethin’ solid to eat soon.” The older man said as he stood. “Is there anythin’ y’need right now?”  
“Yeah; I need me arm and me leg back.” Junkrat’s voice was small, undeniably young.  
Roadhog ignored the small pang of sadness that he felt. “I’ll do what I can. Now rest.”  
“Can’t do anythin’ else, anyway,” he sighed as he tried to make himself comfortable on the cot…

 

The first three weeks after the amputation passed slowly for Junkrat. He was tired and irritable, unwilling to talk with the man that had crippled him. Part of him knew that, deep down, Roadhog truly had saved him, but it sure as hell didn’t feel that way. His angry gaze would follow Roadhog as he moved through the shack, his teeth all but gnashing whenever he felt the tall man’s hands lifting him up. He could move through the home by himself, but it was slow progress and he was prone to falling over. On the fourth week, Roadhog had to leave him for a few days so he could replenish their pantry.

 

Junkrat couldn’t be happier.

 

When the sounds of the motorcycle’s engine had faded, he hopped out of bed. He had improvised a crutch for himself over the past few days and had been getting better to making his way around - he had even been able to make his way outside and around the arid landscape. As nice as it was to feel the sun on his skin, he had another reason for being out in the nuclear wastes.

 

During his forced bed rest, while Roadhog had slept fitfully in the next room, he had heard the quiet whining of something that was distinctly machinated. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how close the source of the noise was; the Outback was silent at night now. The wildlife had either fled the radiation or perished long ago. Ever since that night, though, he had strained his ears to hear the grinding of old gears and the hiss of hydraulics. Whatever it was, he knew that it was close by. He hadn’t told Roadhog about it; he needed the machine in one piece and he had the feeling that if he sent Roadhog after it, the metal would be mangled beyond use.

 

Armed with a crutch, a supply pack and an old pistol, Junkrat began to look around. It didn’t take him long to find a set of humanoid tracks, but it did take him over two days to get close enough to the omnic to get a good look at it. Hazarding a guess, he figured it to be an old farm worker that had long since lost his farm. With a grin, Junkrat lined up his pistol; the omnic was about to buy a whole new one…

 

It only took one shot.

 

Limping his way over to the disabled omnic, Junkrat couldn’t help but smile at his luck. The stupid machine was in pretty good shape, all things considered. He flopped onto the dirt and pulled a small set of tools out of his pocket, grinning as he stared at the metallic limbs. He began to whistle a jaunty tune as he set to work…

 

Roadhog returned to the shack almost a week later.

 

He dropped the heavy bag full of rations as he saw Junkrat walking around on two legs and holding a cup of tea in his hand. His right hand.  
“How?”  
“Oi, 'bout time y'got back!” Junkrat made his way up to the tall man and smiled. “Went out and got me a new leg, I did! And an arm!”  
“Where–”  
“Found an omnic. Decided it was time to make it do somethin’ good for once - the only good omnic’s a dead one, y'know. And look!” Junkrat shifted his weight onto his new peg leg, balancing for a moment before putting his foot back on the ground. “I can do that!” He took a sip from the teacup, extending his metal pinky. “Hand’s good, too; been workin’ out the kinks.”  
“Y’killed an omnic? With what?” Roadhog was thankful for his mask - he didn’t want his new employer to see him standing with his jaw on the metaphorical floor.  
“Me pistol! Honestly, mate, y’d go stupid while y'were gone?” He tilted his head. “Didja think I’d just lay about, helpless and waitin’ for y'to come back?”  
Roadhog shook his head and picked up the bag of rations, making his way into the tiny kitchen. “How’d y'even make it through the wastes?”  
Junkrat shrugged as he walked into the kitchen - his peg leg hit the ground with a little more force than he was intending, but he was walking nonetheless. “Patience and me crutch. Wasn’t hard, y’know; it was just an old farmbot that I followed. He wasn’t goin’ anywhere fast - think he was just lookin’ for somethin’ to plant.” Junkrat shrugged. “Made good scrap, he did. Got enough to make me a new gun and other stuff, too.”  
Roadhog glanced over his shoulder at the younger man before unloading his bag, saying nothing.  
“What? Now y'aren’t gonna talk? C'mon, I’m bored! Y'kept talkin’ when I was stuck in bed; why’re y'quiet now?”  
“What were y’thinkin? Y'could’ve gotten killed!”  
“But I didn’t.”  
Roadhog sighed as he placed a slab of dried meat on the counter. “I can’t be a bodyguard if y'r dead! I told y'to stay inside. Why didn’t y'listen?”  
“I was bored.” Junkrat said simply - what other explanation was needed?

 

Roadhog sighed. “Look, don’t do that again, alright? Y'do me no good dead.”  
“Fine, fine.” Junkrat waved his new metal hand disinterestedly, clearly having no intention of listening. “So when’re we gonna rob a bank?”  
“What?”  
“A bank. I wanna rob one. When can we?”  
Roadhog could only stare, his lips silently moving behind his mask.  
“C'mon; didja honestly think I’d hire y'to just watch over me? Let’s go already! The world’s our oyster. Y'ever had oysters? Not sure what the fuss is about - slimy little fuckers. Why’s that the phrase–”  
“Just… shut up for two minutes,” Roadhog rubbed his temples as he stared at the floor, “you want to rob a bank?”  
“Yeah - it’s fun. Money’s good, too. Y'like money? I do. Y'get more boba tea with money than guns. I mean, y'get a lot with guns, but it’s harder to go back to the sho–”  
“Do you ever shut up?”  
“Nope!” Junkrat was grinning as he hopped between flesh foot and metal leg. “'sides, I’m bored! Y'left for a week!”  
Roadhog turned his back to the younger man, contenting himself with putting away the rest of the food. “Fine. We’ll rob a bank, but y'gotta heal up more first. Y'were septic. Prob'ly still are.” He didn’t need to look at the young man to know that he was currently dancing around on his peg leg - he could hear the metallic clanking just fine.  
“Fine! Fine, we’ll wait, but we’re gonna rob two banks now.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense–”  
“I’m payin’ ya, aren’t I? If I say we’re robbin a bank, we’re robbin’ a bank!”

 

Roadhog could only sigh; arguing would probably only lead to a third bank being added to the roster…

 

A third bank was, indeed, added to the roster. Along with twelve more. Not too much later, they had become the terror of the–

 

Roadhog glanced down as he felt Junkrat’s metal fingers digging into his thigh. He stroked the younger man’s back, smiling as Junkrat’s hand released its grip on his leg. The younger man rubbed his eyes with his left hand, lightly smacking his lips as he blinked in the sunlight.  
“Are we home yet?”  
“Nope,” Roadhog continued to rub his back, “few hours to go.”  
“We live too far away,” Junkrat mumbled as he crawled across the bench seat and came to sit on Roadhog’s lap, straddling him as he draped his arms around the man’s neck. His legs folded underneath his thin body as he let himself sink into Roadhog’s chest.  
“What’re y'doin’?” Roadhog chuckled.  
“Just givin’ me Roadhog a road-hug.” His voice was thick with sleep as his eyes closed again. “Wake me when we get home.”  
Roadhog said nothing as he put a hand on the man’s back, gently holding him in place; his other hand held the old steering wheel, safely guiding them through the hellish wastelands as his mind returned to wandering…

 

It had taken a rainstorm to make him realize how he felt about Junkrat.

 

Well, no, that was a lie. It had taken a lot more than just a rainstorm. It had taken him months to figure out how he felt about the young man. One of those months had been spent almost entirely in thought, sorting through the tangled webs of emotions and all the hazards that were associated with the word 'love.’ He was still glad that Junkrat had been the one to say it first.

 

…even though the delivery could have been better…

 

Eighteen months, they had been living and working together - or, rather, Junkrat had moved himself into Roadhog’s home and had started making demands on what they were going to do. Their crime spree, spurred onward by the ever-energetic Junkrat, had earned them both a tremendous amount of wealth and infamy alike. They had to abandon the shack that Roadhog had built in favour of one that was better hidden - and larger. They had managed to find a mostly intact house that was nestled deep within the nuclear wastelands. It was there that they had begun to plan their first international crimes, laughing and hashing out ideas as they drank stolen champagne.

 

Later that night, Junkrat ambled his way into Roadhog’s bedroom, a bottle in hand, and all but threw himself onto Roadhog’s lap as he drunkenly stroked the man’s broad stomach.  
“…love yooouuu,” he drawled, his glazed eyes staring at the tattooed pig, “y'fuckin’… murder pillow…” he hiccupped.  
Roadhog stared down at the scrawny man, lowering his book as he felt Junkrat hugging his stomach. “Murder pillow?”  
“Yup. Murder pillow.” Junkrat nuzzled the man’s stomach, hiccupping as he hummed to himself. “Big… squishy… wall of de-hic-struction.” The ash and dust on his cheeks smeared across Roadhog’s stomach as he quietly giggled. “Y'r just a biiiig ol’ softie… can punch through a wall, too,” Junkrat grinned more as he pressed a sloppy kiss onto the top of the tattoo’s head, “that’s me Roadhog!”  
“Are y’talkin’ to me or the tat?”  
“Youuuu!” He raised his head and stared up at the masked face, “y'r me Hoggie!” He slowly poked the snout of the mask with a laugh; the empty bottle of champagne fell to the ground with a clatter.  
“Y'need to go to bed,” Roadhog grumped, “y'r fuckin’ trashed.”  
“Naw! I’m fine!” Junkrat poked the mask again, “’m perfect-hic-ly fine!”  
“No, y'r not.”  
“I’ll show ya.” He slid off of the man’s lap. “Watch me!” He stumbled as he tried to regain his balance, the metal nub of his peg-leg skidding across the worn floors. He wobbled for a moment before fallin–

 

Junkrat stared down at the large hands that were holding him steady.

“Y'r trashed,” Roadhog said quietly. “C'mon, bed time.”  
“Aw, mate, no…” Junkrat sniffled, his joyous mood gone in a flash. “Don’t… wanna go to bed. ‘m lonely.”  
He rolled his eyes behind his mask. “We’ll find y'a girl, then.”  
“Don’t want one,” he slowly stood up, still holding onto Roadhog’s hands.  
“A fella?”  
“Naw,” Junkrat sniffled again as he hugged his arms to his chest, “don’t want 'em. They all… just point 'n laugh.” He stared down at his remaining toes. “Don’t want 'em.” He hiccupped before looking back up to the bodyguard. “’s why I love ya. Y'treat me like a normal bloke. Y'don’t care 'bout me peg leg and me metal arm. Y'don’t care,” he hiccupped again, “'bout me looks or anythin’ else 'bout me. ’m just… just y'r Junkrat.” He let his eyes fall back to his toes. “Don’t… make me go.”

 

Roadhog slowly blinked as the words sunk in. It explained a great deal, he thought to himself; even when they were disguised and out in public, Junkrat’s eyes never wandered - his gaze was almost always on his bodyguard. The past several months, too, suddenly made much more sense - Junkrat had been growing even more clingy than usual. He had gone from finding excuses to touch Roadhog to simply jumping on him outright and climbing across his body like a jungle gym. He stared at the morose little gremlin before him.  
“Y'can stay. C'mon, get in bed. I’ll go lock up for the night.”  
“Y'mean it?” Junkrat’s voice was small, hopeful.  
“…yeah. I mean it.” Roadhog slowly stood up and left the room as Junkrat flopped down onto the bed. His metal leg fell to the ground alongside his heavy boot. His prosthetic hand came to rest on the lopsided nightstand as he waited for Roadhog to return, his fingers nervously drumming against his knee.

 

When Roadhog came back into the bedroom, Junkrat’s eyes followed his every motion. The older man pretended not to notice as he undressed down to his worn boxers, nor did he acknowledge how Junkrat’s smile nearly split his face in twain. He sat down and lowered himself onto his back, ignoring the sighing of the old mattress, only to give his own sigh as Junkrat immediately curled up against him. Seconds later, Junkrat pulled Roadhog’s heavy arm over his own body as his head came to rest against his chest. The body guard said nothing as he closed his eyes, listening to Junkrat as his frantic breathing slowed.  
“G'night, 'rat.”  
Junkrat’s snore was his only response…

The next morning was not so tranquil.

 

Junkrat woke slowly, cursing his head as he rubbed his dry eyes. He could feel his stomach complaining as it sloshed and gurgled, regretting the second bottle of champagne that he had decided to drink by himself.  
“Oh, me fuckin’ head…” he moaned, “why’d I drink so much…?” He slowly sat up and rubbed his forehead.

It was then that he realized two things: one, he was not alone and two, that he was not in his bed.

 

“Oh, fuck me,” Junkrat stared at the sleeping behemoth, swallowing hard as he saw Roadhog sleeping only in his boxers. He glanced down at himself and paled as he saw his own underwear. “What happened…? Oh, bloody hell, what happened last night?”  
“Hush,” Roadhog mumbled as he scratched his stomach, “go back to sleep.”  
“Hoggie, what happened? Why am I in y'r bed?”  
“Go back–”  
“Talk to me.” His voice was slipping into hysteria. “Tell me what happened!”

 

Slowly, very slowly, Roadhog pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Y'wanna know what happened? Fine. Y'came in here last night, drunk off y'r arse, parked y'rself on my lap and told me y’loved me.”  
Junkrat’s jaw dropped as he stared at the other man. “n-Naw, naw. Y'r just pullin me leg! I didn’t do that…”  
“Y'did. Told me y'loved me.”  
Junkrat quickly grabbed his metal arm and began to reattach it, doing his best to not look at the other man. He said nothing as he fumbled with his leg, making sure to keep his face turned away from Roadhog. He didn’t want the man to see the angry tears in his eyes. Face it, he thought to himself, y'fucked up. Y'ruined it before it even started…

 

Junkrat pushed himself to his feet and began to walk away, only to bite his lip as Roadhog grabbed his arm to stop him.  
“Fuck off!” His young voice was wavering.  
“Junkrat–”  
“No!” he pulled his arm free as he ran from the room.

 

Roadhog sat back and sighed as he heard the front door slamming. Not only was Junkrat upset, he was upset and running around the Outback without pants… With a groan, Roadhog dressed and left to go find the gremlin.

He didn’t have to look very far.

Junkrat was crouched down by a small outcropping of rocks, his left hand angrily wiping away a few tears. Roadhog slowly approached before coming to sit beside him.  
“Brought y'r pants.” He held out the pair of old shorts, “thought y'might want 'em.”  
Junkrat wiped his eyes before turning to look at his bodyguard. “Why’d y'follow me? Is it 'cause y'r my bodyguard?” His voice was soft, almost heartbroken.  
Roadhog didn’t miss the tone. “Nope. Y'r my friend. That’s why.”  
“Friend?” Junkrat looked away. “Even after last night?” He sniffled again. “Guess it’s better than havin’ nothin’…”  
“Junkrat…” Roadhog sighed. “Listen; I don’t know how I feel. I know how y’feel about me, but,” he shook his head, “look. All I know is that I’m closer to y'than anyone else.” He rubbed his forehead, “just let me think, alright?”  
“Hoggie…?”  
“What?”  
“Spider.” He pointed at the man’s leg.

 

Roadhog followed Junkrat’s pointing finger and stared at the Huntsman that had begun to climb up his body. He lifted his mask and blew on it, watching as it scampered away. Lowering his mask, he turned his gaze back to the young man.  
“Give me time,” Roadhog said gently, “lemme think. Nothin’s changed between us, but I need t'think.”  
Junkrat stared at the man for a moment before nodding. He wiped his cheeks dry and then stood up, shimmying into his pants. “Thanks, Hoggie.”  
Roadhog said nothing as they walked back to their safe house…

 

Roadhog stroked the sleeping Junkrat’s back as he continued to drive through the desolate lands, his smile faltering as he remembered the long months it had taken him to figure out his own emotions. Junkrat had become rather quiet, disheartened and even quicker to anger. He was more ruthless on their heists, more prone to using excessive force. Roadhog had tried to soothe the young man, but any bit of kindness was quickly pushed away; Junkrat would snarl each time Roadhog touched him, always saying something about not touching him unless he meant it. The older man would take his hand away as he hid his sighs - it was to be expected, he thought to himself; Junkrat most likely had never been in this kind of situation before. It was always difficult to confess emotions, he knew, but to do it while drunk for the first time and to another, older man…? He would shake his head and walk away, leaving his frustrated employer alone.

 

As the weeks passed, Roadhog did his best to give Junkrat his space, but he found himself becoming lonelier. He had become used to the high pitched laughter and being used as a living jungle gym; his days were too quiet now, he thought. He missed the odd signs of affection that Junkrat would shower on him - he missed waking up to Junkrat poking the nose of his mask, missed hearing the same stories that Junkrat would always gleefully tell. Hell, he even missed Junkrat waking him up in the middle of the night to tell him about an idea that he just had. He distinctly remembered feeling alone for the first time in many years as Junkrat spurned his company in favour of sitting alone in the Outback.

 

All of that changed on the day it rained.

It was an actual rain, warm and fresh. It wasn’t often that it rained in the Outback and for it to be raining pure water was almost unheard of. Acidic rains had become the norm, scorching the earth with every new storm.

 

Junkrat raised his head as he sat on the dead grass, blinking as the rain splashed down on his dirty face. A split second later, he scrambled to his feet as his heart pounded within his chest; he didn’t want to be caught in an acid storm! He began to run back to the safe house, cursing his metal leg, only to slow as he realized that the air smelled… clean…

 

Roadhog’s head snapped up as he heard the first drops of rain on the metal roof. His eyes went wide as he realized that Junkrat was still outside, in the open, with only his bandoliers and shorts for protection. He quickly dug through his trunk and pulled out a heavy tarp, cursing as he ran outside. He shouted for the young man, unable to hide the worry in his voice as he frantically scanned the darkening landscape. His boots began to slip in the muck, but Roadhog never stopped running, even when his lungs screamed for air. Roadhog kept shouting, determined to find Junkrat and get him to safety.

 

He was not prepared to see Junkrat standing on a pile of rocks and waving.

 

“Get over here!” Roadhog shouted, his voice muffled by his mask. “We need to get inside!”  
“Naw, mate!” Junkrat’s voice was full of laughter, “it’s just rain! Real rain!”  
“What?”  
“Drop the oilskin! It’s fine!” Junkrat jumped off the rocks and down into a puddle, laughing more as mud spattered his scrawny chest.  
Slowly, very slowly, Roadhow lowered the tarp and let the rain touch his tanned hide. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt actual rain…  
“See?” The younger man slowly walked up to his bodyguard as the storm grew stronger. “Jus’ water.” A smile was gracing his face now - a smile that Roadhog hadn’t seen in months.

 

His heart began to pound as he realized just how much he had missed that smile.

 

“Hoggie?” Junkrat’s voice was soft, worried as he stared up at his motionless bodyguard. “Y'alright, mate?”  
Roadhog nodded as he slowly removed his mask. He let it fall to the ground as he grabbed Junkrat’s arms. He pulled the younger man up into a hug before kissing him. His arms were all but crushing Junkrat to his chest, but neither complained as they lost themselves to their kiss…

 

A crash of thunder made them pull away. They held the other’s gaze before Roadhog lowered Junkrat to the ground.  
“C'mon,” he said gruffly, “we need to get back inside. Y'r half metal and I don’t want you to get struck by lightin’.”  
“Y'kissed me.” Junkrat put his hands to his mouth, his eyes as large as his smile.  
“Yeah, now c'mon. The rain’s gettin’ worse.”  
“Y'kissed me!”  
Roadhog stared down at the younger man as he replaced his mask. “Yeah, I did. Let’s go.”  
“Y'kiss–”  
Roadhog sighed as he threw Junkrat over his shoulder. “If y'won’t run, I’ll carry ya.”  
“Why’d y'kiss me? Do y'love me?” He asked giddily.  
“Yeah. I do. I love you.”  
“Really?!”  
“Yup.”

 

Junkrat wiggled his way across Roadhog’s back, pulling himself up to sit on Roadhog’s shoulders. His hands began to play with the man’s grey hair as Roadhog made his way back to their safe house. He held Junkrat’s legs as he ran, smiling to himself as he heard Junkrat’s laughter. He, too, began to laugh as Junkrat held the tarp over their heads in a vain attempt to stave off the pouring rain.

 

By the time they had made it back to the safe house, they were both drenched to the bone. Junkrat slowly climbed off of Roadhog’s shoulders before the pair walked into their respective bedrooms to change. They both tossed their sodden clothes over the kitchen chairs before coming to sit together in the living room.  
“Hoggie?”  
“Mm?”  
“Would,” he swallowed, “y'kiss me again?”  
Roadhog glanced down at the young man that had come to sit beside him. He put his arm around Junkrat’s shoulders and pulled him closer as he removed his mask. With a smile, Roadhog leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on the man’s lips…

 

Roadhog parked his truck in front of their safe house, heaving a sigh of relief as he silenced the engine. He always had the worry that the old vehicle wouldn’t make it back to the safe house, but the risk of engine failure was miniscule when compared to the benefits of the truck’s anonymity. His motorcycle and the attached sidecar weren’t exactly common; it had become even more conspicuous after Junkrat decided to decorate the sidecar in a late-night fit of mania. Not to mention, Roadhog smiled, the last thing he wanted to do while buying eggs was deal with people desperate for the bounty on his head. He stared down at the sleeping Junkrat and began to carefully wiggle his way out of the driver’s seat, doing his best to avoid waking the other man. If Junkrat stayed asleep, it’d be easier to make his birthday cake; Junkrat always insisted on helping and, more often than not, Roadhog found himself cleaning food off of the ceiling.

 

At least Junkrat had finally learned the difference between a Potato Masher and an actual potato masher…

 

Roadhog carried Junkrat inside their safe house and placed him down on their bed, smiling as he draped a sheet over him. Junkrat mumbled as he pulled the sheet a little closer and nuzzled the pillow before falling still once again; Roadhog watched the scene with a fond gaze before leaving. He returned to his truck and brought in their supplies. Humming quietly to himself, Roadhog put the final few items away before starting to make a chocolate cake…

 

Junkrat ambled out of the bedroom a few hours after the sun had set. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked around their small kitchen, his bushy brows knitting in confusion as he stared at a frosted cake and two plates loaded with steak and mashed potatoes.  
“What’s this for?” He asked as he sat down on a rickety chair.  
“It’s y'r birthday,” Roadhog’s voice came from the living room, “thought y’d like a cake and steak.”  
“Is it chocolate?”  
“Yup. Eat y'r steak first.”  
“But–”  
“Steak.”  
“Fine, fine,” Junkrat griped, “but y'gotta come eat with me!”  
“Give me a moment,” Roadhog finished pressing the last bit of tape onto a wrapped box before standing. He had a feeling that Junkrat had completely forgotten what he had asked for, but Roadhog hadn’t. There were a few pairs of new shorts tucked into a box and three bricks of plastic explosives within another. The wrapped gifts weren’t what Junkrat had asked for; all he had asked for was Roadhog.

 

Roadhog glanced at himself in a mirror and smiled as he saw the comically large bow tied around his ponytail. He never was very good at wrapping presents, but he still tried for Junkrat’s sake. He looked to the gifts in his hands before staring back at the dirty mirror. He didn’t consider himself to be any sort of gift, but he’d be damned if he disappointed his lover and best friend by not giving him the only thing he asked for.

 

“Hoggie, why d'y'got a bow on your head?” Junkrat laughed when Roadhog walked into the kitchen.  
“Y'don’t remember?”  
Junkrat’s flat expression made Roadhog smile.  
“Y'said y'wanted me for y'r birthday. Thought I should at least put a bow on.”  
“Drongo,” he beamed, “thanks.”  
Roadhog returned the smile as he put the boxes down on the table. “Happy birthday, 'rat.”

 

The older man watched as Junkrat began to eat his dinner, unable to stop himself from smiling. He was in love with the crazed Junker and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it; among many other things, Junkrat had given him a purpose to his life again, something he hadn’t had in well over a decade. It might not be the most conventional purpose in the world, but it didn’t matter to Roadhog – especially not when Junkrat looked up at him. With only a smile, the young man would tell Roadhog that he was his entire world. Roadhog would squeeze his shoulder in reply, silently telling him the same thing.

 

“Y'r starin’ at me.”  
“Yup.”  
“Gonna eat y'r dinner?”  
“Maybe,” Roadhog grinned, “but I wanna look at y'more.”  
“Why? Me hair on fire?”  
“Nope. Just starin’ 'cause I love you.”  
“Drongo,” Junkrat blushed as he stared down at his plate, “…love y'too.”  
Roadhog smiled more as he finally picked up his own knife and fork…


	4. NSFW - Part Two: Roadhog does some thinking | Junkrat has some cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:  
> 1) My sincerest apologies for the horrible delay in writing this.  
> 2) I was asked for something very raunchy to contrast with the cuteness of the first story, featuring Roadhog as a bottom/receiving partner. I hope I delivered.  
> 3) I hope you enjoy this story. I took some liberties here with my headcanon.  
> 4) This is very NSFW - please do not read further unless you are of the legal age and do not mind seeing material of this nature.

 

 

 

They had showered together before Junkrat left the man alone to resume cleaning. Junkrat had to explain a few items to him, taking a fair amount of delight at the confused expression on Roadhog's face. He winked to his bodyguard as he left the small bathroom, treasuring the sight of Roadhog's face as he tried to work out the logistics of how this would actually work. After all, Junkrat was far, far smaller and much more spry than he ever was. With a huff, he filled up the black silicon device with water, just as Junkrat had showed him...

 

By the time Roadhog left the bathroom, Junkrat was lying on the bed with a small, thin metal rod held between his teeth.  
"'posed to be a rose," Roadhog said as he approached the bed.  
"Rose?" Junkrat took the rod and stared at it in confusion. "That'd hurt, mate."  
"What?"  
Junkrat frowned and put the rod aside. "I think we're thinkin' two different things."  
"Prob'bly." The older man said as he sat down. Normally he'd be showering Junkrat in attention at this point, but he found himself sitting still with his hands on his lap. He was uncomfortable with what Junkrat had asked, but at the same time, he wanted it. If nothing else, he wanted it solely because Junkrat had asked. After all, he liked making Junkrat happy. 

Junkrat stared at the large man before him and rubbed his chin. "Hoggie?"  
"Mm?"  
"Y'alright?"  
Roadhog nodded.  
"Y'sure? Y've not said much tonight."  
He looked off to the side, avoiding Junkrat's gaze.  
"Hoggie, if y'r nervous, we don't--"  
"No," Roadhog said rather quickly before he shook his head. "I mean, uh," he scratched the back of his head, laughing slightly, "well--"  
"Wait," Junkrat sat up straight as he shook his head in disbelief, "no way."  
"Wha--"  
"Y'r a virgin!"  
Roadhog frowned as he stared at the younger man. "Wai--"  
"Y'should've told me!" Junkrat put a pillow aside, revealing a collection of toys that he had amassed over the years. He began to put them back into his bedside drawer, oblivious to the vaguely horrified expression the older man now wore; Roadhog didn't even have names for some of the things he saw, nor did he know that Junkrat even had them. "Aw, Hoggie, if y'd told me, I would'a gone about this all different!"  
"Junkrat--"  
"Naw, naw, lay back. If I'm me Hoggie's first, I'm gonna do it right." He pushed the older man back down onto the bed and straddled his broad stomach as he smiled from ear to ear. "Aw, mate, y'never stop bein' full of surprises!"

Roadhog could only blink in confusion at this turn of events. He didn't know what Junkrat had originally been planning and now he was even more bewildered. He watched as the scrawny man rained kisses across his vast body but he did not completely relax. How could he relax? He was about to do something that he had never done before. Yes, it would be with Junkrat, but it was still something new that involved a very intimate part of himself. 

Junkrat noticed the tightness in Roadhog's shoulders and sat back. "Hoggie?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Are ya only doin' this 'cause it's me birthday?"  
Roadhog glanced to the side before looking back up to his young lover. "...No. I want this."  
"Y'sure?"  
"Yeah."  
"'kay." Junkrat pressed a kiss onto the tattooed stomach. "It's just, y'know..."  
"What?"  
"Yer completely floppy." He took the soft skin in his hand. "Normally when I'm naked on yer lap, yer harder than a rock."  
Roadhog sighed and slowly pulled Junkrat closer to his face, away from his groin. "Jus' tryin' to get used to this is all."  
Junkrat opened his mouth to speak but decided against it. He kissed the man's lips and nestled down on his soft chest. "We got all night, mate. Or longer. No rush."  
"I know."  
"I love ya."  
"I love y’too, Jamie."  
Junkrat blushed and kissed him again. "I wanna show ya how much I love you. Before we even, y'know, do that. Will ya let me?"  
"...Alright." 

 

It started slowly. 

Junkrat kissed along the man's jaw and neck, his eyes closing as he listened to the noises that his lover made. His hands explored over the mountains of his flesh, fingers caressing the firm muscle and the soft skin alike. He could not get enough of the man's body - did Roadhog even know how beautiful he was? In their irradiated world, it was common to see mangled features and missing limbs decorating skeletal bodies. Roadhog, though, was wholly intact and oh-so-wonderfully immense. Junkrat never knew how he had grown to be so big, but he found it irresistible. His lips wrapped around a firm nipple as he began to suckle, his eyes closing as he curled against the man's body. Roadhog was beautiful to him in more ways that his irradiated mind couldn’t even grasp. 

He felt Roadhog's hand on the back of his head and smiled as he closed his eyes. The man's fingers were stroking his tufted hair as Jamison lightly nibbled on the hard flesh that he held between his teeth. He heard the older man's slight hiss of pleasure and felt him shifting on the bed; he couldn't help but smile as he teased his boyfriend. He knew every spot on the man's body that would elicit a reaction. Jamie released the man's nipple and moved to the other one, grinning more as he felt Mako's hand resting on his backside. Whenever he would nibble on the skin, Mako would lightly swat his cheeks. They both knew it wasn't a deterrent, though - Jamison's mouth worked over the flesh as his cheeks turned a rosy hue.

 

Jamison eventually released the tortured nipple and kissed his way lower on his lover's body, his lips and tongue trailing over the dark flesh. Mako's hands were above his head now as he offered himself up to Jamison, allowing the inventive young man to play out his fantasies upon his person. He felt Junkrat plant a gentle kiss on the nose of his tattoo and smiled as he felt Jamie giving the inked pig an Eskimo kiss. He resisted the urge to stroke Jamison's hair as the young man said sweet, silly nothings to the tattoo, talking to it as if it was a pet. It only lasted for a moment more before Junkrat resumed his kiss-filled exploration of Roadhog's body. The behemoth of a man inhaled sharply as he felt Junkrat's warm hand clasp around the base of his shaft as his lips moved lower still.

Mako's eyes closed as Junkrat kissed across his sac. His breathing deepened when he felt Jamison slowly taking one of the large, heavy orbs into his mouth, only to groan as he felt his second teste being pulled into the wet heat of Jamison's mouth. Mako's shaft strained against Junkrat's hand as his fingers traced over the thick, viscous fluid that dribbled from his tip. Junkrat's eyes closed as his nose buried into the soft white curls of his lover's groin, all but drowning in his heady scent. Just like the strawberries of Roadhog's shampoo, the undeniably masculine scent of his arousal was a scent that meant comfort and safety. Junkrat's hand squeezed his lover's shaft as he pulled the skin deeper into his mouth, his own hunger for his lover spurring his actions. 

Mako was home, was safety, and was so completely and undeniably his...

 

The older man's head raised from the bed as he felt Junkrat sitting up. "Jamie?"  
"Yeah?"  
Mako shook his head as he smiled. "Nuthin'."  
"'kay." Junkrat's head lowered again as he lapped at the man's tip, all but savoring the flavor of the salty liquid. He heard Roadhog groan as his inquisitive tongue poked into the slit, half debating if he shouldn't go and fetch the sounding rod again. After all, Mako did seem to be enjoying the pressure... 

Junkrat gave himself a mental shake; it could wait until later, he decided. Mako was nervous enough as it was about the idea of being taken - the last thing he wanted to do was to startle him more. He parted his mouth a little wider and let Mako's firm flesh invade his throat, his eyes closing as he forced his body to relax. Every time he took the man's cock into his body, Junkrat would swear he felt himself being oh-so-deliciously speared on the massive length, regardless of how he was actually being penetrated. He shuddered again as he recalled the first time that he was able to completely take Mako's length within his lithe body - oh, how he had screamed in delight! He could do nothing but sit on the man's groin as he felt his entire body being stretched and was helpless against the all-consuming fires of his orgasm. He watched as his cum splashed across the man's stomach and began to mix with their sweat. He could remember Mako laughing quietly before swearing as Junkrat's body tightened around his cock, causing him to all but burst as his length was squeezed from base to tip. Junkrat's cries redoubled as he felt himself being pushed to his limits before Mako pulled out and released the pent up jism--

"Jamie,"  
He made an inquisitive noise but didn't stop sucking on his lover's cock.  
"Y'r drippin' like a faucet." Mako's voice was low, breathy, "having fun?"  
Junkrat's firm suction on his lover's cock was his answer.  
Mako let his head fall back onto the pillows as he relaxed under his lover's ministra--

The pop of a lid opening drew Mako out of his rosy haze.

A wet finger lightly pressed against his orifice, as if it was asking for permission to travel deeper. 

Mako's flesh puckered before he could stop himself. He mentally chastised himself; it was just his Junkrat, his Jamison. He let out a long, slow breath as he felt the curious finger pressing against him again. It was just Jamie. 

The ring of muscle relaxed. The long, slender finger slowly gained purchase into the previously unexplored orifice. Junkrat's eyes closed as he smiled to himself. He lovingly caressed the underside of Mako's shaft with his tongue as the muscles of his throat worked over the hard flesh. His finger slid deeper into him, seeking the bulge of muscle that was hidden within his lover's body--

A heavy thump on the bed caused Jamison's head to snap up, Mako's cock slipping from his mouth as he withdrew his finger. "Mako?" His voice was alarmed. "Are y'okay?"  
Mako was staring up at the ceiling as he unclenched his fist, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend what he had just felt. Logically, he knew that Jamison had found his prostate but oh, that was so very much not what his body was telling his brain. He had felt a wave of pleasure washing over him, from his thighs all the way up to his chest, and had felt a large dollop of fluid trickle from his length and into Jamie's throat. Hell, even his cock had grown harder from that little bump!  
"Do that again," Mako whispered breathlessly.  
Jamison grinned and slid his finger back into his lover's body, watching his face as he pushed against the hidden organ. "Y'mean this?"  
"Fuck..." his dark eyes closed as he felt his shaft twitching. “Jamie--ah!"  
A second finger had joined the first, the tips of the digits lightly swirling over the buried organ. "Found something y'like, mate?"  
Mako could only groan as he surrendered himself to the sensations. He was starting to understand now why Jamie would howl and scream like a banshee each time they fucked - he could only imagine how Jamie felt as he was stretched by his cock...

 

It ended too soon for his tastes. 

Mako gave a long, low moan of displeasure as Jamison pulled his fingers free from his body. He lowered his feet back to the bed as he felt Jamie pushing at his side. "G'won, mate, on your hands and knees."  
"What?" Mako did as he was told, but he was blinking in confusion. Why did Jamie stop? For fuck's sake, he had been close to orgasm!  
"'cause," Jamie grinned as he picked up the bottle of lubricant, "y'were enjoyin' it a bit too much. Y'didn't think I couldn't tell? Gawd, Hoggie, it was like y'were tryin' to squeeze me fingers off!" He laughed as he coated his own shaft in the fluid. "'sides, I had an idea."  
"Should I be worried?" Mako asked as he felt Junkrat grabbing his muscular cheeks.  
"Naw, mate; just relax." He grinned as he pressed the full globes of Mako's backside together, biting his lip in anticipation as he pressed the tip of his cock into the flesh. He watched as his tip poked out of the top of the cleft, grinning as he slowly began to move his hips. His hands held Mako's cheeks together as he slowly began to saw back and forth, his eyes closing as he felt his cock being squeezed from base to tip by the warm flesh. "Ah, Mako," he crooned, "y've been hidin' this from me!"  
"Hiding what?"  
"Y'r arse!"  
"What--Jamie!"  
Junkrat grinned as his tip slipped a little more into his lover's orifice. "Just relax."

 

Mako stared at the pillow as he felt Junkrat's cock moving deeper into his body. It was long and thin, he knew - he had sucked on it often enough to know exactly how big he was, but oh did it ever feel bigger now. He felt the head pressing against his prostate and moaned despite himself. His cock twitched, rising back to its full salute as another drop of fluid dripped from his flushed tip. He locked his arms as he felt Jamison's hips coming to rest against the curve of his backside.  
"Spread yer legs," Jamie grinned.  
Slowly, he did as he was told. He felt Junkrat's shaft slipping deeper into him and felt the man's lithe form pressing against him.  
"Gawd, Hoggie, yer tighter than a nun," he chuckled. "G'won, relax, mate, it's just me. Just yer Jamie. I'm not gonna hurt ya."  
He exhaled slowly as he nodded. Jamison was right, he knew; he should relax. This was just Junkrat, his Jamie. He routinely put his life into the hands of the little Junker - why should this be any different? 

Well, it is a vastly different scenario, he admitted to himself as he felt Jamison beginning to thrust within him. It was one thing to trust Jamie to watch his back while they were on a heist. It was another thing entirely to have Jamie drilling away at his ass. He could feel the scrawny man's sac slapping against his own and felt his prostate being all but milked by the constant back-and-forth of Jamie's cock. As good as it physically felt, it wasn't... 

...enjoyable.

 

Junkrat slowed his thrusts as he stared down at the tight shoulders and the arched back. His smile faded as he realized that his Hoggie wasn't sharing in his pleasure. "Mate?" He asked softly. "Should I stop?"  
"I..." Mako stared at the pillow for a moment before he sighed. "...yes."  
"'kay." Junkrat pulled out of him without another word.

 

They laid together on the bed, Jamison curled tightly against him as they listened to the quiet whirring of the old ceiling fan. Neither man spoke as they held the other. Mako's eyes were closed as he tried to re-center himself. He could hear Junkrat slowing his breathing next to him, could feel the man's flaccid shaft pressing against his thigh.  
"I'm sorry," Mako said for the hundredth time.  
"Don't be," Jamie pressed a kiss onto his side, "y'tried. That's what matters."  
"I wanted to do it for you."  
"Y'did."  
"I want..." He sighed. "I wanted y'to cum."  
Jamison shook his head as he hugged his lover. "Doesn't matter."  
Mako fell quiet as he put a hand on Jamie's back. His thoughts swirled around his head as he stared at the ceiling, his teeth clenching in frustration as he pulled his lover a little closer. This was Jamison. This was the one man in the world that would never do anything to hurt him. This was the one man that he trusted above all else. 

This was the one man he loved.

 

"Jamie?"  
"Yeah?"  
"...I want to try again."  
"Y'do?"  
"Yup. But, I wanna try it like how I take you."  
"Huh?" Jamison raised his head as he stared up to his lover. "Whaddya mean?"  
"I wanna look at you while we do this."  
Jamie's grin nearly split his face in half. "Alright!" 

 

The old mattress sighed as Mako repositioned himself. His hips were slightly over the edge of the bed, his legs drawn upwards to his chest. His hands were resting on the underside of his thighs, holding his legs up as Jamison stood before him. Mako felt a metal hand resting on his thigh as Jamison's other hand lined himself up with the puckered flesh.  
"Y'ready, Mako?"  
"Yeah," he exhaled as he tried to release the tension from his body, "g'won."  
"'kay." The tip of Jamison's shaft pressed against the tight ring of skin. "Relax."  
"Tryin'," Mako let out a long, slow breath as he met Junkrat's gaze. His lover smiled to him, making his own mouth twitch into a tiny grin.  
Jamison hissed lowly in pleasure as his cock slid into Roadhog's tight orifice. "Y'r like velvet, mate; I feel ya grippin' me cock." He gasped as he hilted himself against the man's backside. "Gawd, Mako, 's'like heaven..."  
Mako's head sank down into the pillow as he closed his eyes. Junkrat was right, he thought - it felt damn good. "Don't move yet," his voice was low, "just wanna feel this for a bit."  
"'kay," Jamie let his hands rove over Mako's thighs, smiling as he caressed the firm muscles. The man's thighs were even bigger than his torso! "Y'feel so good around me."  
The older man let out a shuddering breath as his body contracted around Jamison, squeezing and relaxing as he adjusted to the flesh buried within him. He could feel Jamison's hands stroking his legs and he smiled slightly as he gave a slow nod. "G'won." 

Jamison didn't need telling twice.

He began to move his hips, just an inch or two at a time. It was enough to make them both quietly gasp - Mako, for the pressure he felt within him; Jamie, for the pressure he felt around him. Junkrat's hands squeezed his lover's legs a little tighter before his left hand began to tease the man's tip, grinning as he trailed his fingers through the thick fluid. "Never realized how much y'leaked," he crooned as he brought a wet finger to his lips, "y'must be likin' this!"  
Mako gave a low grown as he watched the younger man's finger, his hands gripping the sheets. In all of his life, he had never expected to do any of the things he had found himself doing while in Jamison's company - he especially had never expected to be in this position! But yet...

Mako's legs wrapped around Junkrat's body suddenly, forcing the lithe man to lean over him. His cock pressed up against Jamison's torso. "G'won," he breathed, "I want this."  
Jamie stared at him for a moment, his love for the older man clear within his gaze, before nodding and beginning to thrust in earnest.

Roadhog's hands clenched the sheets a little tighter as he felt Junkrat's sac slapping against his backside. With his legs around the smaller man, he forced him to stay almost entirely in place, save for the piston-like motion of his hips. Junkrat pressed kisses along his torso, punctuated with the occasional quick bite, as their sweat began to slick their bodies. Mako's legs began to twitch as the last bit of tension left his shoulders. He gave a long, low moan as his eyes closed; it felt too good to keep fighting.  
"Fuck me," Mako growled - the wanton tone to his voice surprised even himself.  
Junkrat nodded earnestly and pulled back until only the rosy crown of his cock was still within his lover. He held Mako's gaze as he buried himself in a single swift thrust, all but basking in the noise that flew from Mako's mouth. With a grin, he pulled back again, only to slip out a little further this time. With the ridge of his tip teasing the man's orifice, Jamison's smile grew wider; he had been with Mako long enough to know that the twitches wracking his body meant that Mako was frightfully close to becoming completely unglued. 

He leaned over his lover's body as much as he could, his teeth lightly clamping down on a sensitive nipple as he hilted himself in one quick movement. The resulting cry of pleasure would be one of the sounds that he'd treasure forever...

Mako's legs began to tremble as his hold grew weaker. Seizing the moment, Junkrat pushed himself mostly upright. He could feel himself approaching his orgasm, could feel his balls tightening as he stared down at his lover's sweat-covered body. His left hand grasped Mako's shaft and began to stroke him vigorously, adding its own wet sounds to the noises of their bodies. "Wanna see ya cum," Jamison whispered, "wanna feel ya cummin' on me cock." His thrusts grew shorter, firmer; each slap sent a ripple through Mako's large body. "Cum for me, Hoggie. Wanna--oh, gawd--!"

A thick rope of fluid splashed against Jamison's chest, soon followed by several more. Mako's whole body was alight with the all-consuming pleasure, groaning loudly as he convulsed on Jamison's cock. Dimly aware, he could feel warm fluid spilling inside of him with each twitch of Jamison’s cock. More clearly, though, he could hear Jamison's loud cry of orgasmic bliss. He had never heard his lover scream like that before. 

Jamie's legs grew weak as he slumped against Mako's sweaty stomach, his strength fading more with every passing second. His now-limp cock slipped free from his lover's spent body, followed moments later by a slow drip of fluid. They couldn't hear the wet splashes on the floor over the sounds of their own ragged breathing. The lovers held the other's gaze as Jamison slowly climbed onto the bed next to Mako. The older man pressed a tired kiss onto Jamie's lips before his eyes closed as his breathing slowed.  
Jamison smiled down at him and kissed his nose. "Y'wanna clean up?"  
"Nah;" Mako's voice was thick, dewy, "do it later. Feels good."  
"Y'like bein' stuffed with me cum?"  
"...Yeah," he smiled. "I do."  
"Y'wanna do it again?"  
"Later, yeah."  
Jamison kissed him again before clambering off of the bed. He made his way into the bathroom to clean himself up, casting a glance over his shoulder at Mako. He grinned at the sight of his lover's boneless body and felt a surge of pride - after all, he alone had reduced the behemoth of a man into a puddle of tired, sweaty and thoroughly-pleased flesh... 

 

Jamison crawled back into bed beside his lover, pausing only to put a towel under Mako's hips. The man merely grunted his thanks as he pulled Jamison close to his chest. He could feel himself growing drowsier with every passing moment, could hear the siren call of sleep ringing within his ears.  
"Happy birthday," Mako whispered as he felt Jamie's hand coming to rest on his chest.  
"Thanks, mate," Jamie gave him a gentle kiss before resting his head on the man's shoulder. “Love ya.”  
"Love y’too," he smiled as his eyes closed and he sank into blessed sleep...


End file.
